


Cooking Lesson

by Eastofthemoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, Hunk/Shay as a background pairing, Parenthood, single dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eastofthemoon/pseuds/Eastofthemoon
Summary: Years in the future, after the war with the Galra is over, Hunk takes on a challenge he never thought he would do. Teaching Shiro's son on how to cook.





	Cooking Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was just a fic that had been poking around in my brain for awhile and I had to write. I may write more in the future for this series, but for now you get this cute one shot.

“Uncle Hunk, please teach me how to cook.”

Hunk paused, rolled out from under the ship he was inspecting and removed his goggles. Hiro stared at him, backpack hanging off one shoulder and both hands tucked into his pants pockets. Hiro wore the same uniform all the kids on the Atlas wore, although Hunk noticed it was beginning to look a bit snug on Hiro. He probably had hit another growth spurt without anyone knowing.

Yet, it was impossible to ignore the look of determination shining in the boy’s eyes. Hunk had only ever seen that kind of expression in the fiercest of warriors...and also Pidge when there was only one peanut butter cookie left on the plate.

Hunk rose to his feet and reached for a rag to wipe his hands. “Not that I’m against you learning how to cook, but why the culinary interest all of a sudden?”

Hiro was a smart kid, he was always reading books and absorbing them like a little sponge and he loved it when he and Pidge told him of their latest projects. Cooking, on the other hand, had never been an area Hiro seemed to care about. 

Hiro’s black bangs hung over his eyes as he silently removed his backpack and reached inside. He brought out a container and held it out to Hunk for inspection. Not sure if he should be curious or fearful, Hunk glanced inside.

The contents were unappealing, to say the least. There was some kind of watery tomato sauce on top of a pile of white mush and some pieces of burnt meat on the side.

“What is this?” Hunk asked.

Hiro sighed as he zipped up his backpack. “It’s supposed to be spaghetti and meatballs.”

Hunk opened and shut his mouth. “Spaghetti and- Did the cafeteria make this?! I swear I taught Vrepit Sal better than this - what kind of kitchen disaster does he think he can get away with?”

Hunk hadn’t gone there last night. He and Shay had gone to his parents' anniversary dinner. If this was what they were serving, he was going to have to take a page out of Dayak's book.

However, Hiro shook his head. “No, Dad did.”

Lightbulbs went off in Hunk’s head as he slowly nodded. “Ooooh,” he muttered quietly. “Shiro’s on a cooking kick again, huh?”

Hiro’s heavy sigh was more than enough confirmation. Hunk couldn’t blame the kid. Shiro was a great leader and pilot, but his cooking skills were an absolute disaster. It hadn’t been a problem when Hiro had been a baby and was content with bottles of milk. It hadn't been a problem when he moved to baby food and Pidge declared her intent to 'puree everything', and it hadn't been a problem when they moved on to finger foods.

However, in the last few years, unless someone else had volunteered to cook Shiro would usually take Hiro to the cafeteria for their meals. Every few months, though, Shiro would begin to worry that he wasn't providing his son with enough proper home cooked meals and would try to rectify the situation.

Shiro’s last attempt before this had been meatloaf. At least, Hunk was hoping that that charred brick had been intended as meatloaf. Honestly that lump of charcoal could have been the remains of just about anything, but the thought of turning anything but ground meat to that kind of substance was kind of terrifying.

Hiro clasped his hands together as he looked up to Hunk with pleading eyes. “Please, teach me,” he begged. “I figured if Dad can’t cook, maybe I could?”

Hunk frowned as he rubbed his neck. Hiro was eight years old and that was about the age Hunk learned to cook things besides toast. “Did you talk to your dad about this?”

Hiro chewed his bottom lip. “No, I know I should, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” Hiro bgan to fiddle with his backpack strap. “Also, he’s always so tired when he gets home and I thought it be nice if I could make dinner for us.”

Hunk’s heart melted at that. Hiro was a good kid. Hard to believe he was already this big. Hunk still remembered all those years ago when they had received the distress calls from the small colony of Delta Seven. The people there were being attacked by some renegade soldiers that were trying to cling to the fading glory of Zarkon’s empire. 

They arrived in time to capture the soldiers, but not in time to save the colonists. It was heartbreaking, but they decided to check for survivors and by some miracle Lance had found a baby. The sole survivor of the whole colony.

They had taken the baby back, but try as they might none of them could find any connection to the child's family. The only thing they knew was that “Hiro” had been sewn into his clothing. Not long after giving up the search, Shiro had decided to adopt Hiro as his son. A lot of people had been surprised by the decision, some had even attempted to dissuade Shiro from the idea.

Shiro was captain of the Atlas and he didn't have anyone to help raise Hiro. Whenever someone brought up the challenges of the single parent, though, Shiro would usually end the argument with a glare - assuming the other paladins or the Holts weren't there to speak up in his defense.

Still, being a single dad hadn't been easy, but looking back on it, Shiro had probably felt a connection to Hiro. He too had lost his parents at a young age and only had his grandfather to raise him. Shiro had been in Hiro’s shoes and probably felt it was only right he did the same.

“Uncle Hunk?” Hiro asked with a raised eyebrow. “You listening?”

Hunk shook his head to dispel the memories and crossed his arms. “Yeah, sorry, lost in thought.” He kneeled and held up a finger. “I’ll teach you a few things, but you have to promise me you’ll only cook when there’s an adult with you.”

Hiro wrinkled his nose. “Why? I’m not a baby.”

“No, but if you burn or cut yourself, you’ll need someone to help you,” he said, echoing the words his own mother told him years ago when he began. “So, promise me?”

Hiro frowned, but then gave a firm nod as he held out his hand. “Okay, I promise.”

Hunk grinned as they shook on it. “Alright, it’s a deal.” He rose and reached for his toolbox. “I was just about done anyway. Let me just put away my tools and then we can get some ingredients.” He looked to Hiro, considering the best starting point. “First thing to teach you is how to make a salad.”

Hiro scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “I already know how to make a salad.”

“Oh,” Hunk said as he arranged his tools into the box. “How do you do it?”

“Take lettuce, wash and tear it up and pour on some dressing,” Hiro explained.

Hunk wanted for more words to follow, but when they didn’t he leaned against the table. “And?”

Hiro blinked in confusion. “And what? What else is there?”

Hunk sighed as he rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, okay, we are definitely getting tomatoes, mushrooms and croutons.”

“What are croutons?”

“What has Shiro been feeding you?!”

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“Good job,” Hunk assessed as he watched Hiro spread the cooked noodles in the pan. “Now just mix in the tuna with those seasonings we mixed up earlier.”

“Okay,” Hiro said as he reached for a can opener and tried not to trip over the apron hanging above his ankles; Hunk made a mental note to find one more appropriate for Hiro’s size. “And I drain the water from the can?”

“Yup, you got it,” Hunk said as he stood back and watched. “Once that's mixed evenly, just sprinkle the grated cheese on top, okay?”

Hiro nodded and proceeded to follow the directions as he glanced to the clock. “Dad will be home soon. I should go and set the table-”

Hunk ruffled Hiro’s hair. “I got it, kiddo, just focus on getting that into the oven - and don't forget the garlic bread!”

Hiro nodded as Hunk left to fetch the dishes. Shiro’s quarters weren’t huge, just like everyone staying on the Atlas he had a space about the size of a small apartment. They were currently stationed on Earth, and the Garrison did provide rooms on the base when the Atlas was docked, but Shiro preferred to stay near on his ship. Hunk imagined the Atlas preferred to have Shiro close by too, as did Hiro.

He set plates on the table, and started to arrange cutlery as the door opened. Shiro entered, pausing mid-step as he spotted Hunk at the table.

“Hey, Shiro,” Hunk greeted warmly. 

“Hey,” Shiro said as he shut the door. “What are you doing here?”

Hunk pointed his thumb towards the kitchen. “Giving your son a cooking lesson.”

Shiro opened his mouth, but then blushed as he rubbed his neck. “He ah….told you about last night, didn’t he?”

“Yyyeeaahhh,” Hunk said as set out the cutlery. “What did you do to that pasta? I thought I was looking at a pile of mashed potatoes.”

“I don’t know, I thought I followed most of the instructions in the recipe,” Shiro said as he removed and hung up his coat.

Hunk blinked. “How do you manage to follow 'most of’ the directions?”

Shiro gave a sheepish smile. “Um well, I lost track of how long the pasta had been boiling. I wanted to make sure it was fully cooked, so I figured I better keep it going for the minimum time listed on the box.”

Hunk blinked and shook his head. “Okay, we're going to have to have words about the meaning of 'al dente', and I’m scared to even ask what you did to that sauce.”

Hiro poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Dad, welcome home! Give me a tic and I’ll have garlic bread out of the oven.”

“Sounds great,” Shiro said as he approached. “How about I help-”

Hiro stood his ground and shoved at his approaching father’s chest. “No way! You stay out! I’m cooking this!”

Shiro gave a fake gasp as he placed his robotic hand over his chest. “My own son, casting me out. Truly, the greatest tragedy of all time. Everything...growing dark...”

Hiro paused as he looked up toward Shiro's face. “Um...well...if you really wanted to-”

“I’m just teasing,” Shiro said as he gave Hiro a hug. “I am fully aware how unskilled I am in the kitchen.”

Hunk briefly thought of suggesting Shiro wouldn’t be ‘unskilled’ if he just bothered to follow basic instructions, but he kept his mouth shut as Hiro smiled and hugged back.

“Okay, it’s almost ready,” the boy then paused as he turned around. “Oh, Dad, did you know you can add these toasted tiny bread things to a salad?”

Shiro blinked. “You mean croutons?”

Hiro frowned and tilted his head. “You knew about them?”

“Yes...Hiro, you’ve eaten croutons before,” Shiro argued.

Hiro looked skeptical as he crossed his arms. “When?”

“In the cafeteria, whenever I get you a salad,” Shiro remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“You always just told me that I should eat my greens, you never mentioned there was bread in it,” Hiro argued.

Hunk covered his hand over his mouth to stop snickering, having to fight laughter right up until the kitchen began to beep. Hiro growled as he glared into the kitchen. “Dad, tell Atlas to stop setting off the smoke detector.”

Shiro frowned in confusion as Hiro ducked inside and looked to Hunk. “The smoke detector?”

“It’s been going off and on, and everything is totally fine. I checked,” Hunk explained while pointing to it. “I think your ‘partner’ is just being over protective again, or acting like that's you in the kitchen.”

“Ah, I see,” Shiro said as he went to sit in a chair. “That would explain why she kept poking at me to rush home. At least she’s not just disabling the stove outright.”

Hunk nodded. Shiro shared a link with the Atlas the same way the lions did with the paladins. However, in the Atlas’s case she had more control over their environment and seemed to take it upon herself to be Shiro’s co-parent.

When Hiro was a baby, the Atlas would sometimes shut off the lights or turn off electronics in Shiro’s quarters to help the child sleep undisturbed. Granted, that was nothing compared to when Hiro started to walk and the Atlas kept locking doors to ensure he didn’t wander off. It took a week of crew complaints before Shiro could get her to relax about that.

They heard the stove door slam shut before Hiro emerged, grinning proudly as he held out a foil covered object with his oven mitts.

“Uncle Hunk, I think the garlic bread is ready,” Hiro said as he held it out.

“Awesome,” Hunk said as he did a thumbs up. “Won’t be long before we can eat the casserole.”

Shiro leaned on his hand. “You joining us?”

“I need to taste-test Hiro’s efforts,” Hunk remarked as he sat down. “Shay is getting home late tonight anyway. So, it’s fine.”

Shiro nodded as he rose. “Can I at least be trusted to pour drinks?”

“Ask Hiro, he’s the chef today,” Hunk said as he pointed.

Hiro frowned, and went quiet. Hunk began to wonder if Hiro was actually debating the question seriously or not.

“Okay, you can pour,” Hiro said as he pointed. “But stay away from the oven.”

“Understood,” Shiro said with a mocking sad sigh. “My own child, having so little faith in me.”

Hunk chuckled as he leaned back in the chair.

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Dinner was served promptly, and Hunk praised the meal with full marks. Hiro grinned and began to ask Hunk what they should make next, until Shiro pointed out they needed to eat the leftovers they would likely have from this meal first.

Truthfully, Hunk had planned it that way. The more leftovers they had, the longer it would be before Shiro tried to cook again. Not long after dinner, it was time for Hiro to get ready for bed. The boy pouted at this, but didn’t argue.

Hunk offered to wash dishes as Shiro went to attend to Hiro. After Hunk finished the cleaning and had put away the leftover food, he crept to where he heard movement from Hiro’s bedroom.

Hiro was already asleep, with the black and white winged lion plushes Lance had made for him years ago. Shiro looked at him with a content smile as he used his robotic arm to tuck him in and then then kissed Hiro’s forehead.

“Night, Kiddo,” he whispered as he sat up, the lights dimming without a word or motion. Hiro buried his face into his pillow as Shiro stood, and the proud parent quietly waved to Hunk as he shut the door.

“Thanks for the help,” Shiro told Hunk.

“No problem,” Hunk said as he crossed his arms. “You know I’m always happy to teacher when it comes to cooking. Day after tomorrow I should be free to give Hiro another lesson.”

Shiro laughed as he rubbed his neck. “Still, it's kind of sad I can’t make a decent meal for my own kid.”

Hunk patted his shoulder. “Hey, we all have our strengths and you’re a great dad.” He narrowed. “Even if you can’t make a grilled cheese sandwich without burning it.”

“Hey, I like them crispy,” Shiro remarked and then they both laughed.

“There's crispy, and then there's suitable to be armor plating. Anyway, I should be home to meet Shay,” Hunk said as he headed for the door. “See you in the morning.”

“Sure thing,” Shiro said as he looked to Hiro. “Although, I’m going to at least try to make Hiro pancakes.”

Hunk froze, turning to Shiro. “Really?”

“...Frozen pancakes that I just need to reheat. And by that I mean have the Atlas reheat,” Shiro argued.

Hunk internally cringed but gave a nod as he left. He had a feeling he was going to have a long list of things to teach Hiro.


End file.
